Graveyard Petals
by Ellethwen
Summary: She knows not why she has come here, nor even who she is, in this shadowed world.
1. Prelude

**Graveyard Petals**

_She knows not why she has come here, nor even who she is, in this shadowed world._

**Disclaimer: **Percy Jackson and the Olympians belong to Rick Riordan and the other copyright holders, I make no money off of this. I'm just having lots of fun. And the opening quotes? Those belong to whoever said them first.

**Author's Notes: **This story uses the old plot idea from Eidolon, which is why it's so similar. This has been a very research-extensive story. I hope I did everything right. Please do not jump all over me if I slip up on something, I'm not going for complete and total accuracy; I'm going for a story you can enjoy. I did purposely abuse certain tidbits of info.

* * *

**Prelude**

"_I do not know who these mute folk are  
That share this unlit place with me—"  
-Ghost House, _Robert Frost

* * *

_Her hand is pale, bone-white, and slim, resting outlined by the starched white sheets of her bed. She is clothed in a hospital gown, and a medical chart hangs at the foot of the bed, listing her name and medical history, as well as why she is here. _

_She is sleeping, stringy hair fanned out upon the pillow. Her expression is tight, exhausted, and unfamiliar to the visage of one so young._

_Then, she stirs, murmuring in her sleep. Words and images pierce her eyes, which open only slightly and then shut tight, as shafts of light, blurred, gray, and unfocused. The words she speaks, which stick stubbornly to her tongue, speak of something forbidden to her—of home, of the place she used to know._

_Memories stir sleepily within her mind, before pulling the sheets over their own heads, not willing to awaken. Instead, a false past will play within her mind, when she is asleep and when she is awake. She babbles of it constantly, and what a world it seems to be. But it cannot be real._

_She knows not why she has come here, nor even who she is, in this shadowed world._


	2. Oracle

**Chapter 1: Oracle**

"_Know thyself? If I knew myself I would run away."  
_-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

* * *

I hefted the weight of my sword nervously, testing it. I wasn't looking forward to the coming trial, for I was a horrible with swords. And yet, I still had to fight.

Across from me, facing me with narrowed eyes, was the enemy—Esther. She stood before me, an expert, her coarse red, ridiculously straight hair tied back into a neat ponytail. I looked past her challenging brown eyes to the ponytail, watching it stir slightly in the breeze. Anything but looking at her face.

Then a challenge—her challenge—rang out, loud and clear.

"Ready to be destroyed?"

My toes involuntarily curled up inside my boots. It was quite possibly the cheesiest challenge ever, worthy of legions of cheap sci-fi movies, and yet, the way Esther pronounced the words made them terrifying—dripping with malicious intent, oozing threat to my life.

I willed myself to respond. "I won't be!" I shouted, but the words fell flat and powerless. Balancing myself in an imitation of what I had been taught, I prepared myself as much as I possibly could.

In less than the blink of an eye, Esther was suddenly there, raising her own sword, swinging it towards me. I just barely responded, arcing my blade into hers with a sharp metallic _clang _that rattled my arm. Esther pushed her advance, and I just barely kept pace, my sword only keeping hers inches away, never doing harm.

I was being pushed back towards the wall of the arena, my feet sliding across the sand. Sweat poured into my face, but Esther showed few signs of being tired, if any. She landed a heavy blow with the flat of the blade to my arm, and in response I buckled, all of my lessons sliding out of my head, like melted snow through my fingers.

In this vulnerable position, Esther struck me across the back, and my vision turned piercingly red. With a cry of pain, I swung up, moving blindly, not noticing how Esther's expression of smooth concentration changed to one of worry as she fought back.

My own mind heard nothing. I felt as though I had been transported to another place, and my vision saw it so—no longer was the sunlight clear with the morning, no longer was there a gentle heat, no longer was I in the training arena. It was late afternoon, chillingly cold, I was on a lonely hilltop, and Esther was my enemy, and I had to press her in, defeat her, win. _Kill her,_ my mind hissed, and I was ready to do so, willing, empowered by a force I couldn't name, and so I moved in, swinging my blade up, ready to bring it down and _end it—_

"Holy _shit _Cass!" a voice cried, and the red haze splintered before me. I blinked, no longer on that hilltop, but standing once again in the arena.

I had pushed Esther to the ground, and she held her sword out weakly before her, sweat streaming down her body, her eyes wild and frightened. I myself stood erect, not feeling tired but instead empowered, holding my sword up and ready to bring it down in a path that would have sliced her skull.

I stumbled back, confused and frightened at myself, when I realized that. Bloodlust had never taken me before, and I realized now why I was always so glad I hadn't. It had changed not only the scene around me, but it had also skewed my relationship with Esther, changing me from friend to enemy, and that would have proved lethal if her words hadn't pierced my mind, for bloodlust also strengthened, changing me from a horrible swordfighter into someone even Esther had trouble holding her own against.

Letting my sword swing to my side limply, I reached out a hand to Esther, who stood up quietly, and then said, "Cass, um, you do realize the goal was for us to train, not kill each other, right?"

I looked at her evenly. "Of course. I don't know what happened."

Esther breathed heavily, running her fingers through her limp hair. "Well," she said at length, "that was interesting, at least." I simply nodded in reply as I turned away, walking towards the exit and allowing her to fall into step beside me.

After putting my sword away, I tramped off to the showers, feeling unclean not only in body, but in soul. After a long shower, I studied myself, hard in the mirror, trying to once again remember myself, for I had once again forgotten.

As I gazed into the cool, reflective glass of the mirror, I could have sworn I saw not my own face looking back at me, but someone else's—the face of an invalid, my own navy eyes sunken in the skull, my own wet, straight brown hair dry and stringy, torn out in chunks, my own skin wrinkled, sallow, pale. I started, and the image disintegrated as it had that morning, and I was once again looking at my real self.

"I am Cassandra Delos, 14 years old, demigod daughter of Asteria," I proclaimed, loudly, to the mirror. "I live at Camp Half-blood year round. I like chicken soup and history." Those words, acting as an affirmation of who I was, worked to ease my mind, and I felt as though I was being pulled back into my body, tethered to the ground solidly, and no longer a balloon lost by a child.

Drying my hair, I focused on other things—such as my schedule for the day, which was entirely, depressingly, empty, other than the training match with Esther and meals.

Such were Octobers at Camp Half-blood: dry and stale, bread left to rot. Since so few people lived here year-round, Chiron and Mr. D never bothered to organize schedules for the cabins. As such, every one of us were left to do as we will, with the warning of, "continue your studies! Practice!"

And, in true teen fashion, we didn't—or, at least, hardly did. Frankly, the only reason I'd been at the arena today was because Esther is obsessed with how well she fights. Spoken like a true daughter of Enyo.

Trying to devise some sort of structure for my day, I climbed the steps to the Hermes cabin, almost wary of the idea of entering. The things that went on in this cabin were unspeakably insane, and I was certain that since coming here, most of my sanity had been eaten away.

Summoning up the courage to trounce inside, I was greeted with the usual noisiness, arguing, and flying objects. Ducking a stuffed turtle and monkey, I dove for the general safety of my sleeping bag, which had been shoved up against the wall. I took the padlock off of my bag (it was necessary in this cabin, for even those who weren't children of Hermes were excellent at stealing) and rummaged through my things, in search of my mirror.

A voice spoke behind me. "Oh, look, it's Ms. I Can Tell the Future!" Despite the slight prod, the speaker was light-hearted. I tilted my head up and back, looking up into Esther's face.

"Sheesh, Esther, and you're Ms. Let's Kill Everything that Gets In the Way," I responded, looking back to my bag and ignoring the pinched look that Esther gave me as I said that, and her protest of "I do not!"

Esther called me by the name she did for a certain reason: I could tell the future. I was a daughter of the goddess Asteria, the goddess of prophecy, astrology, and the stars. In fact, I think I'm better at it than the Apollo kids, but don't let them hear you say that—they've got huge egos.

One thing I try not to let people know is that Asteria is actually a Titan goddess. The Titans aren't very popular around here, of course. It seems to fall over the heads of most that not all of the Titans were necessarily evil. I'm not sure about Asteria, but I don't think she was against the gods. At any rate, I don't support either side.

Esther was speaking to me. I shook my head. "Huh?"

She looked at me accusingly. "You don't listen! I'm leaving, then!" Thus promptly, she pushed herself off the bunk she had been laying across and headed to the other end of the cabin. I stared after her, shaking my head. Esther's mood changed far too often.

I turned my attention back to my bag, pulling out my mirror. I held it in my hands reverently, for it was a stunning piece of creation, made of striking, deep blue azurite, with a face of black opal. She ran a finger over the silver and gold filigree that formed decorations around the mirror of flowers, stars, and leaves.

The mirror was a scrying mirror. I had found it a long time ago in the basement of my home in Virginia, and I'd kept it since then, feeling as thought it was rightfully mine. I looked into it most every day, the mirror giving me something to fall back on when things spun completely out of my control.

Now, I lifted it, carrying it with me as I headed outside once more into the chill October air. I was bound for the strawberry fields, my hangout for whenever I wanted to be alone, or if I wanted to scry.

The vines had been left to wither and die with the seasons, in keeping with the natural rhythm of life. They hung skeletal over their trellises, and their leaves only contained the faintest hint of green, quickly fading to brown.

I sought out my usual spot and sat on the dry ground, cross-legged and comfortable. Then I closed my eyes and relaxed, breathing in and out, letting my mind fall empty as I pulled myself into the right condition for divination. Then, I opened my eyes, and focused on the mirror.

The mirror was blank for a while, but then, blurry colors washed across it, slowly pulling into focus, and then were like a movie. I, personally, was delighted at the ease of it, but I didn't let my concentration wane, lest the images also disappear.

Playing before my eyes was a scene I didn't recognize. A hospital room, with a simple bed and white sheets. The blinds in the room were closed, and a girl that I only stirred the slightest vague memories lay in it. A medical chart hung at the foot of her bed....

Something in my mind rebelled sharply against the scene, and I wanted to scream at it, shatter it, but then the image fluidly and swiftly shifted into one I did recognize: Mount Tamalpais, Tam for short, the home of Kronos. I watched in fascination as a I watched a figure climb towards the fortress from a distance. I couldn't recognize who they were, but to me, they didn't seem to have the intent to attack. Otherwise, why would they be so blatant about coming towards it? They were probably a supporter of the Titans.

My focus on the scene changed to come closer, and I saw that the figure was a girl. Something about her was familiar, and then I began to realize who she was with a feeling of dread—

Voices rose into the air behind me. There was a crunching sound as footsteps walked across the dead leaves of the strawberry plants. The images shattered on the surface of the mirror, and I scrambled to my feet, my mind still halfway in the world of the mirror. I knew where I was, but I thought I could see Othrys looming in the distance still.

Shaking my head, I cleared all of those sensations from my mind, bringing myself sharply back to full consciousness with a pinch. I didn't know who was intruding upon my own privacy, and though it made me angry, I fled—I always had some sort of stigma with people seeing me using the mirror to divine the future.

As I hurried back towards the cabins, I tried to bring back the image of who had been climbing towards Othrys back to my mind, but the information I'd learned was dissipating, and I no longer remembered who it had been.


	3. Foresight

**Chapter 2: Foresight**

"_One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple  
Shook whatever it was lay there at the bottom,  
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?  
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something."  
-For Once, Then, Something, _Robert Frost

**Author's Notes: **This is a really short chapter, as I only had one thing, really, plotted with it. I tried to think of what else to add, but there wasn't really any way to make it longer without breaking things. Sorry!

* * *

The Sun was westering when I went to the Arts and Crafts cabin. It was dark and silent, for everyone else was eating dinner. However, I wasn't hungry, and so I was skipping it. I didn't quite know why I wasn't hungry—I just felt empty overall, as though something had left me, along with the images on the mirror.

Turning on a light and closing the door behind me, I sat at the long table in the center of the room. Putting my head in my hands, then I stared at the opposite wall, trying to summon back the scene I'd seen this morning. I was disappointed I'd been interrupted; never before had an image with Othrys in it been so clear.

Sighing and giving up on the task, I wondered what to do with myself. I was not artistically talented, and I didn't enjoy the arts either. So I resolved to tap in an annoyed fashion on the table, wishing something would happen and listing the things I could be doing if I'd been smarter. _I could have brought a book with me or something...._

Snorting in frustration, I paced back and forth, wondering when it would be safe enough to risk the journey outside. It had been hard enough trying to get away from the counselor of my cabin, who insisted that the Hermes cabin was much, much better as a whole than a part. I didn't really care for having to do so again.

I had finally judged it safe to go outside and was opening the door when I heard people approaching, talking. The voices sounded like the same ones from this morning, but I couldn't place them to anyone I knew.

Something was pricking at my senses, telling me that hearing their words was important, and so, leaving the door open, I pressed myself against the wall, listening hard. Little snippets of conversation were carried to my ears.

"The Titans are...."

"New members daily."

"...the latest?"

At that point there was a brief silence, and by the time the answering voice spoke again, I could hear them very clearly.

"Asteria."

I froze, my mind beginning to piece that together.

"But she was on our side before!"

"Not now..."

They passed by, and I heard no more.

I was certain that they'd asked who the latest member of the Titans had been. And the answer was Asteria...

Asteria was my mother.

I gazed at the opposite wall from me, phantom snowflakes dancing before my vision. My mother had joined the Titans.

I didn't feel very depressed about it, actually. After all, I had been on neither side. But now, it seemed as though it was time for me to choose. I'd come to that point, the time where the fence no longer existed, and I could not sit on it. I had scraped by as such before, despite people telling me that I had to choose.

Well, now they were correct.

I was wary to step outside. I felt as thought something would be left behind forever if I left this cabin. Something hidden was lurking behind the scene, and it was freezing me with an irrational fear. If I did proceed, would people recognize me as the same person ever again? But there was no reason I should feel as such. There was no inherent danger in leaving the cabin.

And so, I stepped out, where I could once more be seen, into the swift-fading light.


	4. Major Arcana

**Chapter 3: Major Arcana**

"_into that world inverted,  
where left is always right,  
where the shadows are really the body,  
where we stay awake all night..."  
-Insomnia, _Elizabeth Bishop

**Author's Notes: **The extensive amount of tarot information in this chapter is legitimate. The Golden Dawn spread is a popular spread for either/or decisions, and the meanings of the cards are from Mastering the Tarot: Basic Lessons in an Ancient, Mystical Art by Eden Gray, which is probably no longer in publication and I'm lucky to have it.

* * *

It had been two days since I'd heard the latest news about the Titans, and still I had made no decision. I'd been hiding between the lines for so long that I realized I knew nothing, really, about either side. What their strengths were, their weaknesses, nothing at all. And no one was willing to discuss it. Neither could I glean anything from the random snippets of information that came to me.

On the evening of the second day, I decided to consult the powers of divination—via not my mirror, but the tarot cards.

I took my pack and a book to reference the meanings (only to be sure—I had memorized the symbols long ago) to my place in the strawberry fields. It would be far too noisy in the cabin to perform a reading without interruptions. The Moon was waning, and it would soon be but a thin sliver in the sky.

I had decided that my spread would be the Golden Dawn spread, perfect for either/or decisions. Setting the book down beside me, I drew my sweater closer against the chill wind. Then I took the cards out of the wooden box that held them and unwrapped the silk, letting the colorful cards of the Rider-Waite deck fan out into my palm. Closing my eyes, I let my fingers run over them, and picked on for the significator, which would represent me.

The card I drew was The Fool, reversed. Key 0 of the Major Arcana. The same card I always drew to represent me, and I understood not why. But sighing, I laid it down upon the ground and turned my mind back to the rest of the deck.

Once again relaxing my mind, I began to shuffle and mix the cards, calling upon the powers that would help me answer my question. I plied the question gently, but urgently—_should I join the Titans? _I shuffled the words into the cards, wanting the most accurate reading possible.

Once I'd shuffled the cards, I began to lay them out into the expansive but largely-detailed spread I needed. When that was completed, I set the rest of the deck back into the box, and studied the results of my reading—which I was shocked to see.

Cards two and three were cards that represented the main element of the situation. Accompanying me in spot two was another card that showed up in every spread I did for myself—the Queen of Swords, sitting in her throne. I frowned at it, for it was always there, yet I never understood its presence.

Spot three was held by The Moon. _Unforeseen perils. Deception. Change. The card of the psychic. _I let the meanings run through my head as I turned my focus to the next three cards, 4, 8, and 12, situated in the upper right-hand corner. This would describe the path I was taking.

The first card to meet my eyes was The World, reversed. _Fear of change, lack of vision. Refusal to learn from the rest of the cards. _Following this was The Hanged Man, which was also reversed. _False prophecy. Resistance to spiritual teachings. _The last in this row was the Four of Cups. _Emotions turned inward, dissatisfaction with the material, a time for reevaluation._

The next row was in the top left-hand corner: cards 13, 9, and 5, describing the alternate course. The first was The Hermit, which represented open mindedness, silent counsel, and one who would lead me to my goals. Following that was Six of Swords. _Passage away from difficulties or sorrow. I may send someone else upon a journey I was going to undertake, and doing so would raise me out of my difficulties to be more understanding. _And lastly, there was The Sun: Success, achievement, happiness.

There was an obviously sharp amount of contrast between the path I was taking and the alternate path, but I refused to dwell on it until I'd looked at the other cards. As such, I turned my attention to the third row, cards 6, 10, and 14, in the lower left-hand corner. This row formed the psychological basis of my question.

Card 6 was The Tower. That would be change, conflict, catastrophe, the overthrow of old ways of life. Next to that was Temperance, reversed. _Lack of judgment, creativity out of balance. _The finishing card of this row was Justice, reversed. _Injustice, inequality, a biased mind._

The final row, cards 7, 11, and 15, proved the most disturbing of all. These cards represented the forces outside of my control.

Leading this row was The High Priestess. _A warning against speaking of secrets, mysteries hidden deep within the consciousness. Spiritual enlightenment. _Following this card was Death, reversed. I did not fear the card, for I knew that it was not a herald of my own demise. _Transformation, upheaval, disaster. _Finally, card 15 was The Empress, reversed. _War and destruction. Psychological problems that disrupt the home._

Rocking back onto my heels, I whistled. I hadn't even linked the cards together yet into a proper reading, and already, I was worried. This was a bad reading, and had I been reading for someone else, I would have had a difficult time making it sound not as terrible.

Focusing on the cards again, I began to link them into a story. There was the Fool...and the Queen of Swords, omnipresent. The only thing I could ever position her as was a figure, probably a woman, that was extremely important to my life, but I hadn't met or recognized yet. It wasn't Asteria, I knew that much. So I focused on linking The Fool to The Moon. The card of the psychic—that probably meant my psychic powers. Something about me was going to change, soon, and there was something hidden and dangerous behind it. This was a key point to me.

The path I was currently on was obviously disastrous. I was fearing change, and I didn't want to learn from the rest of the cards—but what cards? The ones in this reading, or ones from past readings I did for myself? I had brushed against false prophecy, but the only prophecies I knew of were those I divined on my own. I was resisting spiritual teachings as well, and my emotions were focused only on myself. I was experiencing a dislike of the material, and I needed to reevaluate myself.

However, the path I could be on seemed splendid indeed. There was someone I could take counsel from, someone that would lead me to my goals. It also said that if I sent someone else in my place that I would be happy. And this would lead to the promise of The Sun, which was happiness.

I looked at the psychological row next, which displayed the reasons behind my asking. There was change again, and there was conflict, a changing of old ways. That seemed obvious—the war. And the next one was obvious, as well—a lack of judgment, which involved the fact that I couldn't choose a side because I always wanted to stay out of trouble, when even that was bad. But the last I couldn't understand. Injustice? _Maybe it's because I think it's not fair I have to pick a side because of my mother._

Then there was the last row. Things I couldn't control. There was someone, or something, in my life that was telling me not to tell secrets. Something would be changing, and upheaval and disaster would follow. And the first meaning of The Empress was clear; the war again. But psychological problems? I dismissed that as a meaning unimportant to me.

It disturbed me that so many of the cards were Major Arcana cards. A spread with many Major cards is deemed to be nearly entirely out of the control of the one receiving the reading. And that the karma row was comprised entirely of such cards seemed to cement the fact: I was trapped, chained to what the Fates willed.

The frustrating issue was that the spread didn't seem to answer my question. I wanted to lay the cards again and see what happened, but there is a rule in divination that one never asks the same question twice. So I gathered up my cards, organized them, wrapped them up, and tucked them back into the box, thanking the powers.

I wasn't bothered that much, for my decision had been made.

* * *

When I got back to the Hermes cabin, it was complete chaos.

Shouts flew back and forth, people fighting to have their voice heard. They made wild gestures, some falling back. One particularly vehement boy broke into a scuffle with another.

Trying to avoid the flailing arms around me, I sought out Esther, who was yelling as loud as any of them, face swollen bright red.

"ESTHER!" I practically screamed to get her to hear me.

She looked down at me, surprised. Enyo's daughter was clad in green plaid pajama pants and a white T-shirt, making her look like some sort of convoluted Christmas elf. She clung to the top rail of the bunk bed ladder, leaning out into the aisle.

"Cass!" was her response. "I'm glad you're here!"

"Why?" I shouted up at her.

Before I even got a warning, Esther roared, **"QUIET!"**

The cabin fell shockingly silent. Esther smiled at them, politely.

"Okay," she began. "Cassandra's here, so we need to ask."

I couldn't understand why I needed to be here. Bits of information swirled in my head. What was going on? Something was spiraling away from me, something important.

There was a brief outbreak of conversation, like a sudden flurry of snow, but that was quickly silenced by one murderous glare from Esther, who then spoke once again, to me.

"Cass, while you were gone a message arrived for you."

"Oh?" I replied, hoping the answer wouldn't terrify me. But if it had made the rest of the cabin act like this, what had the message held?

"Yeah. It was from Olympus, from Hecate. She had a mission she wants you to do."

Annoyed, I snapped, "What are you doing reading my messages?"

Esther frowned at me, coolly. "Because the person who brought it here read it out loud. And it said that either you or someone you chose could do it. And then everyone started arguing at that."

"What was the mission?" I questioned, trying to keep my voice even. _I do pretend a lot, don't I,_ was the thought in my mind at that, but I slammed my mind shut upon it, focusing only on what was at hand.

"The mission was to go to Mount Tam," Esther announced with a flourish. "To see what's going on around there. So it would have to be someone fast, and who had good powers of the mind. That's why Hecate thought you would be a good choice, but she left the decision up to you. She said that we wouldn't need to consult the Oracle."

I frowned. Go to Mount Tam? That was suicide, risky beyond belief. But surely Hecate had a reason for it. She was, after all, the Crone, wise and all-knowing, Persephone's guide.

_If I send someone else in my place, I might be happy. _I recalled the cards, and that was all it took for me to announce my decision.

"Esther can go—and not one of you dare accuse me of favoritism," I told them as their faces grew ugly at the realization that I'd chosen my best friend. "I know she's capable, and I know she wants it more than all of you. She won't come to harm, which I can't say for the rest of you."

And at that I promptly went back out the door, ignoring Esther's gratitude, for I had something I needed to do.

* * *

The path to the forest was easy for me to find, for I'd used it often. I carried nothing with me but my mirror, and yet now, it would not be used for scrying. I was out past when I should have been in bed, now, but I did not care, as this was of utmost import.

I found a spot where I could see the shaded Moon, a shining sickle in the sky, and I recalled another Sickle that existed in the world as I knelt onto the ground.

Lifting up my mirror, I allowed it to reflect the Moon, as I spoke softly—my oath, my vow.

And when it was done, I stood up, changed, and indifferent to who I had been just a few short days ago. I had finally chosen a side.

It had been a long time since I'd decided on any one thing, But the reading I'd done tonight was enough to help me choose, paired with the fact that one card had become true promptly upon my return to the cabin. The path I had been on had always had me leaning towards the gods, and if the other path available was the Titans, then it was obvious.

I was Cassandra Delos, and I supported the Titans.


	5. Hexagram

**Chapter 4: Hexagram**

_"She died at play,  
Gambolled away  
Her lease of spotted hours..."  
_-Emily Dickinson

**Author's Note: **Ugh. This chapter was really hard to write. As such I'm not very happy with it, but I spent a long time trying to improve it and I can't figure out how to fix it. If you know, feel free to tell me.

* * *

The week waned, and with it the Moon disappeared, drawing a cloak around itself. Esther left camp on Hecate's mission, and I was left fairly alone. I became something of a recluse, rarely showing up at any of the gatherings I was supposed to. People didn't seem to miss me, and I wasn't bothered by that fact.

I went about like I always did, but just barely. Inside, I was itching for something to do. I made myself known to the few Titan supporters I came in contact with, and they looked at me askance, before ignoring me completely, like a fly they would like to squash, but needed in the room to break the silence with its buzz.

I didn't mind that, either.

I had never been good at keeping secrets, so maybe it was only a matter of time. My dark secret was much like a time bomb, counting down to the end so serenely. What did it start at? 30 seconds? At most 40.

And on a chilly Wednesday, it exploded.

* * *

_This floor is a blend, of silence and screaming, of insanity and lucidity. This difference provides much to muse over as the person I keep vigil over sleeps silently, occasionally stirring._

_I am not alone here in this sterile room. With me also is her mother, face lined with worry, an unnameable sadness etched in the heavy trenches in her skin. Surely they must have both looked similar once, but now that similarity is gone._

_I ask her mother how long her daughter has been here. She replies, "two years."_

_Her mother comes almost every day, to sit with her daughter and talk in low tones of what they'll do when they leave this place. There is almost no reply, ever, and I can see that this speech is the only thing that gives her hope. This mother has to pretend that some day this will be over._

_The nurses, when they come in, are silent and faceless. Unlike other nurses I've seen, these make no attempt to get to know their patient, even though they tend to her daily. And of course—there would be no response._

_Their hope dies here._

* * *

Wednesday was much colder than it had any right to be, and I growled at the whistling wind as I drew my puffy blue coat tighter around myself.

Briefly, I wished I could be one of the summer-only campers, but of course that was impossible. My father had really not wanted much to do with me in the first place, maybe because the idea of what I was freaked him out, because he didn't seem like a malicious person to me. And he had a wife, too, and a perfectly normal son, my half-brother. He occasionally extended an invitation to me to return home, but I usually turned it down. No point in increasing my problems.

That didn't mean I still didn't wish for it sometimes, however.

I clattered noisily up the steps to my cabin, being obnoxiously loud on purpose. My mood was swinging like a nutcase today, and right now I was determined to annoy everyone.

However, my attempts came to naught, as when I opened the door I found yet another argument in full swing. It wasn't exactly something new, but the content of this argument wasn't over bunk beds or who stole things, as usual. It was instead over who was right—the Titans or the Olympians.

I noticed that the two other traitors in the cabin were being careful, very tactfully staying out of the argument, while the others, Olympianites, Switzerlandites, and People-Who-Know-No-Betterites argued (I really had no idea why those other two groups were participating; it seemed a little hypocritical).

I could have been like the other Titan supporters and stayed quiet. I could have pretended I believed what I didn't. I could have turned around and left the cabin.

Instead, however, I did the worst thing possible.

"Of course the Titans are right!" I blared, and as soon as I realized what I'd done, I clapped my hand over my mouth.

Even those who may have had Titan tendencies hadn't said anything so blatantly, because saying that would automatically mark you as a traitor.

All eyes turned to me. I took a step back slowly.

_Dammit. Dammit, Cass. Damn you to Hades._

A voice spoke up from the back. "Cass?" A boy sitting on the bunk near the door glared at me, and I could see his potent hatred.

I turned and fled, bound for the forest. I had to figure out what to do now, because the cabin would no longer be safe for me.

* * *

I spent hours in the forest, waiting until dinner. As dusk fell and people streamed out of the cabins to the promise of food and drink and conversation, I slipped from my hiding place and dared to approach my own cabin.

Carefully checking through one of the windows, I could see that there was no one else left. Quickly, I darted inside and headed towards my things, which I quickly gathered up and shoved into my bag. Shouldering it, I went back outside and into the forest, moving among the trees with the aid of a flashlight until I found the property line. The line had always been something I could sense, to me.

There was one last thing I wanted to do. Reaching into my jeans pocket, I found a loose thread, which I pulled on until it broke, leaving me with a long length. Then, shining my flashlight on the ground, I searched until I found a small, loose stone.

I rubbed most of the dirt off on my jeans, then tied the thread around it, leaving me with a rather crude pendulum. Calming my mind as I usually did before performing any sort of divination, I held the pendulum still between my fingers. Then, I asked, to the air, "Should I leave?"

Letting the pendulum go, I watched with some satisfaction as it immediately began to swing in a circle. _Yes._

I slipped the pendulum into my pocket. Shouldering my bag, I tried to quiet my mind, which was scolding me for having been so stupid, and creating this rush to leave. My reasoning with myself was somewhat bizarre—I would have wanted to leave eventually, the camp would have been destroyed, anything to try and make myself feel better that I had exploded my own time bomb and divulged my own secret.

I stepped over the property line, and into the mortal world.

* * *

Of course, upon leaving I was immediately presented with a problem. And that was where to go.

I ran over the options in my head. The only one that came to mind was my home back in Irvington, Virgina, but that would have been too difficult to explain. Also, I'd told Dad that if I ever wanted to go home, I'd talk to him first.

I could go live at a friend's house, but it wasn't until then that I realized I didn't really know where any of them lived. Going back to camp was obviously a no. I wouldn't be able to go to a hotel and live there on my own; Social Services would nab me in a heartbeat. I didn't know of any runaway shelters (and the idea was disconcerting anyways).

The only choice left, then, was going to Mount Tam.

It seemed ridiculous at first. Kronos wouldn't want a random demigod there, would he? Or would he be happy? Was he interested in the services of a prophetic demigoddess? After all, prophecy was about all I could do, and I was pretty good at it if I do say so myself (although my scrying needed a lot of work).

Maybe if I went there, I could be a better supporter. And maybe I could meet Asteria. The idea was enticing, for I'd never gotten the chance to meet my mother. Did the Titans live there?

I happen to have an ability that may seem useless and even dangerous to everyone else, and that ability is that I can make myself believe anything. And so, it didn't take much work for me to be confident that I would be allowed and maybe even welcomed at Mount Tam.

I began to head towards Manhattan, running over the things that I had with me. My Dad had given me a credit card for emergencies, which I'd never used before, so there was some money. I had maybe three gold drachmas, as well as a few crumpled dollar bills and some loose change. I also had all of my possessions, which weren't much. However, I had no food and drink.

As such, my first stop was a grocery store. Stepping inside, I attracted quite a few stares, which I attempted to ignore as I began to troll the aisles for the things to keep me going. A little while later, I approached the register, and the lady there cleared her throat as she began to scan my things.

"You look a little worse for wear," she commented, and I looked up at her, startled.

"I do?" Her nod was clear and I could tell she wasn't lying.

I looked at my small reflection in the strip of metal around the counter and saw exactly what she meant. My time in the forest had left me with dirt, leaves, and twigs. No wonder they were staring at me. I'd thought it was because they could see right through me, to the one thing that was on my mind, which was escape.

"Ah. Well...I'll be at home soon, so I guess I can take a shower," I replied, trying to keep my voice light, but really, I was trying to think about how I could get to Mount Tam. I could probably catch a train, but a train to where?

I payed for my food and headed outside without another word, bound for Grand Central Terminal. There, I studied the map closely, deciding that my best choice would be to go to New Haven. That train wouldn't be coming in for a while yet, and I sat down to wait on a bench wearily to wait.


End file.
